


Two to Tango

by Persiflage



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Schmanon, Cheerfully Ignoring Any and All Canon as the Lord Intended, Dancing, Erotic Fiction, F/F, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Photography, POV Outsider, Tango, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Canon divergence: Bernie and Serena tango on a train.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 18
Kudos: 51





	Two to Tango

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bat_and_Breakfast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bat_and_Breakfast/gifts), [Rauz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rauz/gifts), [Kayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayryn/gifts), [fortytworedvines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortytworedvines/gifts), [ktlsyrtis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/gifts), [spilled_notes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilled_notes/gifts), [Regency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/gifts), [Wonko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/gifts), [sevtacular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/gifts), [ProfessorFlimflam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlimflam/gifts), [tebarambles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebarambles/gifts).



> Inspired by a photograph that several of my Tumblr mutuals shared featuring a couple of queer women dancing on a train, my Muse leapt on the idea of Bernie and Serena, at some post-canon (but ignoring canon, of course!) time going off somewhere to tango together.

I’d seen them board the train a couple of stops ago. A couple of older women, maybe in their late forties, early fifties. A slim blonde in a black two piece suit with a crisp white shirt and a narrow black tie, and a brunette in a deep red backless dress, apart from two thin straps making an X across her back, and a pair of leopard print heels. They were obviously a couple judging by how close they stood together on the busy train through central London, and the way the blonde’s hands kept touching the brunette – holding her up and keeping her steady when the train cornered. But it wasn’t just that – it was the way they looked at each other – as if the other woman was the only person who mattered in the whole world. It looked like utter devotion to me, and I confess I felt more than a mite jealous of the two of them.

Then we came to an unscheduled stop between stations and because the carriage was a little less crowded than before, there was a bit more room to manoeuvre – not that I’m entirely sure that explains why the pair began to dance. The brunette seemed to demur a bit, perhaps not wanting to make a spectacle of herself, but the blonde cajoled her – I heard her call the brunette Serena as she begged her to dance, and Serena’s eyes softened as she looked at her lover. 

“You, Berenice Griselda Wolfe, are a menace,” she said in a low voice, and the blonde chuckled.

“Always know I’m going to be in trouble later when you full name me,” she said, smirking at Serena from under an untidy fringe. 

I fought not to smile at their interplay, and especially the mirth I could see shining in Berenice’s eyes.

Serena shook her head, then lifted her right hand to meet Berenice’s left, while Berenice’s right arm came around Serena’s torso, holding her across the middle of her back. Serena’s left arm was around Berenice’s shoulders as they began to move to music only they could hear.

Murmurs ran along the carriage as people looked up and saw what was happening mere inches or a few metres away from where they sat or stood. What made it all the most astonishing was the fact that they were dancing tango steps – there wasn’t enough space for the full tango, but they were moving up and down the length of the carriage, with people making space for them, step and step and step, then spin into a turn, then step and step and step back again. The blonde, Berenice, even dipped her partner very dramatically a couple of times – the second time she did so and it looked like she was going to drop Serena and practically everyone in the carriage gasped, but she didn’t, and when they straightened back up, every single person in that train carriage broke out into applause. They both blushed, and Serena curtsied while Berenice bowed. 

Then the train began to move again, and they got off at the next stop. It was my stop, too, so I followed them as they crossed the platform, then took the escalator up to street level.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Serena said, just loud enough for me to hear.

Berenice chuckled. “Stopped you from fretting, though, didn’t it? Between concentrating on not falling over, and plotting your revenge for later.”

Serena chuckled too, then swatted at her partner. “Berenice Griselda Wolfe, you are incorrigible.”

“Oh no. I’m going to be dead tonight – that’s twice you’ve full named me in the space of an hour. As she stepped off the escalator at the top and turned to take Serena’s hand, she caught my eye and I blushed when she gave me a wink. 

Then they disappeared in the direction of the taxi rank in front of the station, and I headed in the opposite direction. My jealousy had spiked again at their banter on the escalator as it seemed pretty obvious to me that they were very deeply in love with one another, and secure enough in their relationship to not mind demonstrating that fact to a train carriage full of total strangers. I’d never had that kind of relationship and at nearly thirty, I’d begun to despair that I ever would.

I was so deep in my rather melancholic thoughts that when someone tapped me on the shoulder, I yelped in shock, and turned around fast, nearly knocking over the person behind me with my bulky backpack. 

They were tall, blonde, and sexy in a pair of black jeans and a distressed leather jacket. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” they said, their voice low and husky. “But you dropped this on the train.”

They held out a book and I felt myself blush because it was my rather dog-eared copy of _Delta of Venus_ by Anais Nin. 

“Thanks,” I said, and took the book. Our fingers brushed and I inhaled sharply when a spark of electricity seemed to pass between our hands. 

“You’re welcome. I’m Dev, by the way. I love Nin’s work, too.”

I still couldn’t tell whether this Dev was a man or a woman, but I decided it wasn’t important. We fell into conversation about Nin’s books and when we got to the end of my road, I decided to invite Dev for a drink – there was a pub on the corner, just a short walk from my digs – and they immediately agreed. 

As I ushered them into the pub I couldn’t help thinking that I owed Berenice Griselda Wolfe, and her partner, Serena, a debt of gratitude for distracting me so much that I forgot my book. Even if Dev was only destined to be a friend, at least I had made a new friend thanks to them and their tangoing on a train, and that was definitely not something for which I could ever be ungrateful.


End file.
